


Miss Vicious

by cassacain



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Harley Quinn (2017), Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), Harley Quinn (Cartoon 2019), Harley Quinn (Comics), Poison Ivy (Comics)
Genre: F/F, Love, Romance, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:47:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23419204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassacain/pseuds/cassacain
Summary: Pamela noticed Harley and was immediately stuck by her. But, she was with the Joker, and Ivy was sick of pining after people she couldn't have. Then Harley arrived on her doorstep.
Relationships: Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel
Comments: 12
Kudos: 292





	1. Ivy

**Author's Note:**

> I am in such a Harley Quinn mood, and there has never been a character so utterly shippable

She was glitter and fire.

She stood there, clown princess of crime, blonde hair a gleaming halo and lips rosy red to make the white flash of her teeth all the more painfully vivid. Her smile as alluring and untrustworthy as a siren’s song.

Ivy knew danger when she saw it. She sipped her drink and pretended to not care about Miss Quinn—she sure hadn't cared about her back when she was Doctor Quinzel—and rolled her eyes at the godawful music in the Iceberg Lounge.

Across the room, Penguin ordered some random man to be shoved into a tank with a hungry shark. He screamed as two henchman dangled his head over the tank, making sure he knew his fate before they finally dropped him in.

Harley’s laugh was shrill at the edges, full of heart in the middle, and felt something like warmth. Not a loving, bubbly warmth, but the kind of heat good whiskey sank into your stomach. Ivy shut her acid green eyes and listened for a long moment, and when she opened them again the man’s cries ended. The icy-blue water in the tank now has red pluming in it now.

Ivy got to her feet. She turned with hooded eyes and walked toward the exit. She paused a moment where Joker, his green hair slicked back, sunken eyes locked in place over glassy-sharp cheekbones and fixed on the tank—squeezed at Harley’s bare thigh. She's not standing anymore; now, Harley is perched like a bird in his lap.

Ivy fixed Harley with a smirk. Harley looked up at her, her sadistic glee fractured by the Demeter-inspiring goddess in front of her (Harley saw abandoned islands, palm trees, jungles that tied to the beginning of the world; it takes everything in her not to let her eyes wander, to force herself to continue to meet the unreal green eyes of the plant-swathed woman before her).

“You could do better, little rose,” Ivy said, because she doesn't want to call this woman Harleen—she’s grown out of it—or Harley, which felt like conceding that she was Joker’s. So, she called her rose. She sure looked lovely like one.

Harley was stunned into a pause, but a moment later her lips curled up in a clownish laugh that sounded like bubbles popping. Bubbles that reflected rainbows. Ivy straightened her back and swayed her hips as she moved steadily toward the door, not another look back. Her dignity was marred but not broken, and she held on even as Joker turned her into a punchline: which one of us do you think the crazy plant lady was talking to, Harls?

“I donno Mistah J, but I thought up a good one. I’ve heard a’ crazy cat ladies, but ya eva hear of a crazy plant lady—“

The door shut smoothly behind Ivy, and she was alone in the cool Gotham air. She breathed in deep, smelling the dampness around her. Gotham was good because it rained frequently, and what was a plant without water? She needed it, far more than she needed love.

But all the same, she couldn’t help the angry throb of her heart. Spurned, again and again and again. She knew she was beautiful, yet every single person she yearned for didn’t return those emotions…Ivy shook her head.

Such piddling human concerns were beneath her. It was time to go home, back to the garden where she could sink back into the petals of one of her king-sized plants—larger than a couch but not quite the size of a small apartment like she desired, not just yet—and fall into a deep sun-touched sleep.

She hoped she didn’t dream of Joker’s pretty golden doll tonight.


	2. Harls

Harley went untouched by sleep that night. She pressed her thighs together, closing her eyes to dwell on the warmth thrumming between them. Joker lay sleeping still beside her, eyes shut and yet purple shadows remaining fixed firmly on his pale face.

He was as white as an egg since the acid. She gently touched his sleeping face, his skin soft and warm beneath her fingertips.

Her heart was warm like the sun and full to bursting, like an overstuffed purse. Joker was everything, everything, everything.

Doctor Harleen Quinzel was nothing. She threw herself away for this man, but the thought didn’t bring remorse or disgust.

She was content. She let her eyes slip shut, eyelashes dusting her cheeks. The curves of Ivy’s bottom occurred to her, along with her fireworks of vibrant red curls and the deep jungle-green of her skin.

Ivy, Joker, Harley.

She fell asleep.


	3. Harls

It didn’t last.

Harley clutched her upper arm, the deep gash on it bleeding out regardless. She couldn’t put enough pressure on it. Everything was running cold, and even if the Bat chased Mistah J down it didn’t matter because he’d still pushed Harley into the danger as if she meant not a single damn thing.

There was nowhere to go without ending up in Arkham. She considered trying to get to a hospital, even though it was obvious how that would end, with her behind bars. She staggered out onto the sidewalk and civilians pointed at her, covering their mouths and ducking out of her way. Not a single person offering help.

Not that she expected it. She was a criminal and a murderer, they hated her, even Joker hated her. She felt a dry sob erupt and ran faster. A cop car whistled down the street ahead and with a deft grace she leapt to the left into a green park. She hunkered down beneath a bench and sobbed. Everything was hurtling out of control and spiraling down, down, down. She gripped the wound harder, staring down at the green grass beneath her.

She surged up, out of hiding, and darted out toward the police car.


	4. Harls

Akrham smelled. Like cleaning products and dust. It was different from being a doctor there, because you knew you were going to leave at the end of the day; this was like being a rat in a little wire cage. Harley was crazier than ever before, restless.

But her arm was healing well. As was her heart. She watched the Joker on the television screen, with his beautiful smile.

And then, one night, green smoke filled the halls and he arrived. There was no apology, just jokes and laughs, and he took her home and suggested she got back into the full-body red-and-black costume he’d steered her toward in therapy.

She looked at herself in the mirror, done up with makeup, her mask, her red and black, and told herself Harley Quinn was basically her given name. Joker hadn’t created her, he’d just shown her what she truly was. Guidance, that was the word. 

Not manipulation.

He did not own her, not like they said. She had simply made a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're afraid of what direction this is going, all I can say is...there's a reason it is listed as Harlivy ♡


	5. Harls

Harley made the choice, again and again. She felt like a candle burning down, but she figured she must have been a candle with a foot-long wick. Or, maybe she was just dynamite. Either way, she was burning down. The doctors encouraged her to leave. If nothing else, for her own safety. She couldn’t lie about the bruises blossoming up, purple stains that stood out as if enhanced by the whiteness of her acid-dyed skin.

Harley realized she was sick. She could see that. But she could excuse it still. Because, he didn’t look at other women, he only looked at her. And when he touched her she could feel the spark between them. And there was that dazzle-smile. Sure, he liked the idea of owning her, being her “daddy,” telling her what to do, but who didn’t like submitting control to another person? She didn’t have to worry about stuff.

Until he dumped her, and then she was all alone until she got picked up and thrown into Arkham and abandoned there and…Harley didn’t like to think about that part of it. She hated it as much as she loved it. The out-of-control spiral. But she did notice a few things that were kinda weird.

For one, there weren’t a lot of girls in this business. There were the League of Assassins ladies but Ra’s Al Ghul was clearly the head honcho there. Even badass broads like Lady Shiva ultimately deferred to him. Nyssa and Talia, his daughters, were likewise.

There was Babydoll, a crazy girl that looked like a little kid. Cute as a button; Harley wanted to be her friend but hadn’t had the chance yet. Still, Babydoll wasn’t big in Gotham, not the same way some of the other crooks were.

Catwoman was a big name in Gotham, too, but she was a jewelry thief and sometimes she played for the heroes. Still, Harley admired her style.

And, of course, there was the queen of crime in Gotham, none other than the gorgeous woman who assured Harley she could do better than Joker not too long ago. Poison Ivy. The name was enough to chill a person, and inspire some terrifying images of man-eating plants with poison dripping off them. All the same, Harley was curious about the redhead. She mainly kept to herself and seemed pretty careful in her schemes. It was always some boring thing about the environment, too, and though Harley didn’t get it…

She liked that Ivy had a consistent theme. And, for three straight days (days Harley spent in Akrham with a broken leg, courtesy of Puddin’) Poison Ivy took over the city using plants and almost killed Batman, fully cementing her place as a leading member of the Rogues Gallery.

That gave Harley a little tickle. A part of her wanted to be big and independent like that Ivy. And she couldn’t get that image of Ivy walking away out of her mind. She spent a full twenty minutes of free time in the Arkham library researching the broad on a computer, and she found Ivy had the type of bombshell looks a person could stare at for hours without getting bored. Her face was perfectly symmetrical, with almond eyes, a cute little nose, a perfect oval face, and cheekbones that could compete with Angelina Jolie.

She was like an angel, with her luminous green skin and her miles of vibrant red hair. A red-and-green angel, which just screamed Christmas spirit. And Harley loved Christmas, it made her all giddy inside.

So she had to meet Poison Ivy again, but playing nice this time.


	6. Harls + Ivy

Ivy wasn’t difficult to find.

She had made a garden of abandoned buildings on the East Side of the island. No one went near that place; a whipping vine was liable to snatch hold of your ankle and drag you in if Mother Nature was in a bad mood. Harley crept closer, feeling small even though she’d put a lot of thought into her outfit. Not the red-and-black skintight suit she bounced at Mistah J’s side in, the booty shorts and Daddy’s Lil Monster shirt, or the scrappy pieced-together jacket she’d sewn herself half-drunk for fun one night. Not even the vibrant yellow jumpsuit she bought on a whim and patterned diamonds onto.

The outfit was red booty shorts and a white tank top blouse, tied to show off her tummy. Her pigtails were cranked up around her ears, the tips flowery pastel pink and blue. She had a clean face, no makeup, though she did still have that drawn-on black eyeliner heart beneath one of her baby blue eyes.

Ivy’s lair towered over her. She hefted her baseball bat (chosen because it seemed less offensive than the mallet) and strode forward. The vines raced out at once and she sprang in the air, cartwheeling and hopping over them with a few happy squeals. She spun to a stop at the entrance and, seeing the vines rising to strike at her all at once, quickly darted through.

The walls were lined with plants. Harley felt as if she were inside a living, breathing monster, the hallways being its throat. She skipped in, grinning as she imagined descending into the belly of some Swamp Thing-like creature. Creatures of the Black Lagoon…Harley wondered if she could make a joke off of that that Ivy might find funny.

How to explain to Ivy that she’d been thinking of her almost constantly? Without sounding gay, of course, in case the bombshell was straight and just wanted to be friends with Harley and…there we go again, that old familiar habit of turning every crush I have on a girl into a field of landmines, Harley thought as she flipped over a vine that leapt out of her. She gave a little kiss to the giant plant that bit at her legs before skipping quickly to the end of the room. She turned around to wave at the plants before spinning to go on.

She bumped hard into something that she could’ve sworn hadn’t been there before. Harley looked up from the ground and saw why; it was the owner of this lair.

“What are you doing here?” Poison Ivy asked. Her eyes shown acid-green, her pupils pinpoints. Dark red curls trailed over her chest and she wore a loose-fitting white kimono with tassels over pajama shorts and a top. The little tank top read talk to me after coffee with a little mug on it.

Harley sprang to her feet. “Hullo there, Miss Poison Ivy—“

“Doctor,” Ivy said, sharply.

“Doctor Poison Ivy,” Harley grinned. “It drives me nuts when people do that to me too.”

Ivy tilted her chin up. “What are you doing here?” She reiterated.

“Well, it’s a little bit complicated,” Harley wrung her hands together, hesitating now. “So you see, Puddin’ and I are…done-zo.”

Ivy quirked a sharp brow. “And, uh, I don’t really have nowhere to go and I don’t have any friends at all,” Harley trailed off, realizing Ivy’s expression hadn’t changed in the least. Her confidence dwindled.

“I don’t have friends either. You don’t need to feel ashamed about that,” Ive replied, and Harley looked up to find her a tough of empathy in her stone-cold beauty.

Harley beamed. “Thanks, Ivy. I—I know you don’t really know me, and, in hindsight, it kinda sounds like I’m askin’ to sponge off ya, but…”

Ivy tilted her chin up, her expression returning to its former distance. Unbeknownst to Harley, Ivy was busy reflecting on the first time she’d met the Harley, all glitter, gold, and fire, and how beautiful she found her. She recalled being rebuffed and laughed at by Harley and her twisted boyfriend.

That brought pain. And she would protect herself from potentially being taken advantage of by Harley, and being hurt again.

“There are certain tasks you will have to complete to earn your place here. Of course, you can leave at any time, though I doubt you’ll morally object to what I ask of you,” Ivy said. In the past, she’d taken in Gothamites with nowhere else to go, but some of them found feeding her plants and other such tasks to be too gruesome to complete. In that case, she let them leave, even though she occasionally missed them.

“Oh, believe me, Poison Ivy, I hardly morally object to anything anymore. Puddin’ got rid of all that, the rough-and-tumble type a’ way!” Harley grinned. Ivy let the smallest smile touch her lips; she couldn’t be too careful, but she didn’t want Harley to think she was cold either.

“Alright, we should be fine, as long as you’re respectful of my things. I’ll show you where you can stay. Just remember that I am perfectly willing to kick you out whenever I may need to.” Ivy answered.

“Of course! I’d expect ya to, and nothing less. But I will not take advantage of you. I mean, I’m a teensy bit on the violent side, but I’ll do my best—“

“You damage anything, you must replace it,” Ivy growled. “You kill a plant, I exact the price from your flesh.”

“Ah. Yeesh,” Harley cringed. “Gotcha. Be extra careful with the plants.”

Ivy smirked. “You’re getting it already,” as they spoke, Ivy led Harley down a winding path of plants, up some stairs, and into a large open room with glass windows and less plants. It was almost plant-free, except for the twisting vines that covered the whole of the building. These vines lay still, and didn’t move unless Ivy actively forced them to.

“This is where you can stay. Sometimes, I have people in it…now is not one of those times,” Ivy said, looking around. The last people who had lived under her protection were a couple of orphans that Batman put back into the system after catching her. She hadn’t been able to find out where they’d gone to now. 

“Well, it’s got people in it again! Thanks Red!” Harley chirped, throwing her arms around Ivy in a hug that made Ivy jerk away. Harley backed away at once, throwing her hands up. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just thought—“

“I’m not a touchy person,” Ivy snapped, before she could help herself. The sudden touch registered in her chest as a rapid heartbeat and quick, short breaths, but she forced herself to calm back down. “And, Red? What’s that?”

Harley’s cheeks went red. “I, um, when I was in grad school I was close friends with a girl, she had red hair, and it was a nickname.”

Ivy frowned. “Close friends?” Something about the way Harley said it made her suspicious. 

Harley’s smile fell away, and without the mask she was suddenly vulnerable. “No, I suppose not. More like my ex-girlfriend.”

Oh. Ivy’s heart fluttered more and she wished she hadn’t jerked away from Harley, even though it was a knee-jerk response to the panic of suddenly being touched after not being touched for so long and…

Memories were flooding back in, and now she was noticing Harley’s long toned legs and her cute little midriff.

Ivy turned her back on Harley. She was letting her head get muddled. “Get some rest. It might not be comfortable tonight but you can move your stuff in tomorrow. I think there might be bedding in the closet.”

“Thank you,” Harley said, her voice softer than usual still. Harley hid all her stuff in bags not too far from here, in an old lair Joker wasn’t currently using. She would pick it all up in the morning.

Until then, she got the bedding out and made up the bed. By the time she flopped onto it she was completely worn out, and it didn’t take long to fall asleep at all.


	7. Ivy's Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> After watching the new HQ show and being served a harlivy endgame, I am on-fire for this ship right now. So, I decided to update this though...it has been a while, haha. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Ivy sat inside one of her car-sized ruby-pink flowers, pondering what just happened. She was unable to sleep in the jarring aftermath of Harley barging in and asking to stay. This was different than granting sanctuary to a civilian victim; Harley may have been abused by Joker, but she was a strong and intelligent woman in her own right. Harley could definitely prove dangerous.

It reminded Ivy of Selina. Catwoman, with her black leather and her dangerous smile, had originally fascinated Ivy when she came onto the scene. Ivy allowed her to get close to her, and, occasionally, they worked together. She found Selina to be a charming woman.

But Selina had two sides to her, as many in their walk of life did. She was a wandering spirit. She never stayed in one place long. And that included Gotham; Catwoman would fly in, steal something, and dart out just as quick, hoping to get away with it. Ivy noticed she had a penchant for getting more out of deals than others, as well. Anytime Selina asked Ivy to join her in on a mission it seemed as if she got the raw end of the deal. Or, Selina would get Ivy into trouble and then leave her behind to “fix” it.

Catwoman was an ally, but at the end of the day she was out for herself. That, and she loved Batman in ways she didn’t love Ivy. She might prefer Ivy over the other villains, but ultimately she used her for her powers and her loyalty and sympathy truly lied with Batman.

Ivy pictured Harley the same way. Harley might grow to care for Ivy, if Ivy was gentle and nursed that affection, but at the end of the day it was highly likely that Harley would prefer Joker. When Joker called for her, Harley would come running. The thought burned at Ivy like acid, but it was important to remember.

She could not allow herself to get attached. This little pigtailed clown would not break the Poison Ivy’s heart; it would be a humiliation her dignity could not handle. 

No, she would not let her attraction for Harley turn into something else. Harley could be a partner in crime, just like Selina, but she would be nothing more. Not friends, not lovers: nothing.

All the same, Ivy’s mind kept circling around it. Harley’s admission of a girlfriend in the past. It burned in the pit of her stomach, just like the time Selina said, with a wink, _“I like to keep my options open.”_

_And Ivy replied, “What does that mean?” Because Catwoman enjoyed her status as notoriously cryptic._

_So Selina laughed and said. “Isn’t it obvious? This whip cracks both ways.”_

Bisexual. Just like Ivy herself, though Ivy would be the first to admit she had a preference for women, especially after the devastating betrayal from Jason Woodrue. 

Ivy assumed the same was true of Harley; that, or she was pansexual, or she’d been “experimenting”—and idea Ivy despised—or some other answer Ivy just wasn’t thinking of.

But, regardless, an attraction to women didn’t erase the fires of Harley’s love for the Joker. There was still a passion and a history there that Ivy didn’t have with Harley. And, Ivy saw firsthand the way Harley came alive, lighting up like a firework anytime she caught Joker’s eye. She had been utterly enchanted by him.

Ivy came to her conclusion. She was done competing with men, in general, especially for the affection of another woman.

  
She wouldn’t put her heart in that situation. For now, she would maintain a comfortable distance from Harley. She would harbor Harley here, because she still had that soft spot in her heart, but that was it.

Besides the bare minimum, Ivy would be cold to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Any comments or kudos would make my day ♡


	8. Morning, Ives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song recommendation: 
> 
> death bed (coffee for your head) by powfu
> 
> Doesn't exactly have to do with this fic, it's just...really sad, but also really good

Ivy woke suddenly to movement. She could feel it upstairs, where Harley was staying. She was attempting to go downstairs. Presumably, Harley was going off to get her things. Ivy soothed her plants and let Harley exit the building, before slipping back to sleep.

She woke again later to her name being called, sing-song. “I~vy,” Harley drawled. “Waky waky! The sun is up and you should be too!”

Ivy scowled, before lifting her arms. The plant sensed what she wanted and the petals opened at once, so she could stand and emerge regally out. The blonde’s eyes went wide and she stared up at Ivy in awe. Ivy felt her cheeks color a darker green, and she glanced down to find her pearly-white nightgown fixed firmly in place, exposing nothing.

“Good morning,” she said, in place of the lecture she had prepared about personal space and her desire to sleep in as late as she damn well pleased.

“Hiya, Red,” Harley said, perking back up as if to shake any dopiness off of her face. “And good morning!”  
“Good morning, Harley,” Ivy replied, striding past Harley toward the kitchen. “I assume you went and gathered your things?”

“Yup!” Harley said, fixing Ivy with a megawatt grin. She wore her hair in low pigtails that rested on her shoulders as well as red sweatpants and a white tank top. It was a casual look, especially for only being moved in one day.

Despite her desire to be cold, Ivy was flattered that Harley was comfortable enough to be so casual around her. 

“Where are your hyenas?” Ivy asked. She expected the furry beasts to show up at some point and had been mentally preparing herself for the destruction that was sure to accompany that moment.  
Harley’s smile crumbled in response to the question. “Mistah J kept them…” she said, in a voice that was barely there. She looked like she could cry.

“If you’re missing them feel free to treat my plants similarly. They could use the extra care.” They didn’t need anything more than what Ivy provided, but it felt like she needed to say something. Harley perked up.

“I could definitely do that! Would that be one of the tasks you had for me? Ya know, to make up for me stayin’ here and all that.”

“Sure,” Ivy said, her voice flat despite the small smile tugging at her lips. She couldn’t help it; Quinn was likable. “They probably eat much the same; many of my plants eat meat.”

“Your plants eat meat? How does that work?” Harley asked, clearly befuddled, and Ivy smiled pridefully.  
“Not all of them. But, I designed many of them that way. That way I can feed the CEOs that pollute and kill the environment to my babies; I figure it’s a fitting end.”

“Your babies?” Harley echoed. “You see the little plants as babies?”  
Ivy shrugged. “Much like you see your hyenas. Although, they are like extended parts of me. For some of them, I can feel their pain.”

“Really?” Harley asked, thinking back to when she was in Arkham, watching Ivy’s takeover of Gotham on the TV. “It must have sucked when Batman blew a bunch of them up.”

Ivy’s face contorted with displeasure and she gripped the carton of milk she’d gotten out so hard Harley was half-afraid she’d break it. “He deserves to die for what he did to my babies. The only reason he got me to Arkham was because of their pain.”

“Yeah, I hate ‘im too. He’s a real self-righteous prick.” Harley acquiesced at once. Ivy didn’t seem much comforted, but Harley was happy to see they had plenty in common regardless. 

Hating Batman? Check.

“Yes,” Ivy said, in a measured tone a moment later. “Right now, I have eggs and cheese. I think I’ve got some bread for toast too. Will that work for you?”

“That sounds perfect! Nothing beats an egg sandwich,” Harley exclaimed. “Here, Red, lemme make breakfast as a way to thank ya! You know, for taking me in and everything.”

“Alright,” Ive watched as Harley opened the fridge. “It’s barren in there, I’m going to have to go grocery-robbing today.”

“You mean grocery shopping?” Harley chirped as she dumped cheese, eggs, and bread on the counter and began organizing them to make eggs.

“I meant what I said,” Ivy replied, taking a sip of milk. She studied Harley’s smile carefully and, finally, gave in. “You want to come with me, don’t you?”

Harley sprung into the air with glee. “Yes! I almost thought you weren’t going to ask! I’m so glad you did, because I was just thinking if you were gonna rob the store we would make the best team!”

Ivy quirked a brow. “Team-up? You know I’m a solo act, right?” She said, trying to keep her tone calloused and cold.

Harley must have missed the edge to Ivy’s voice, because she nodded happily, her voice giddy as she effused with joy. “Yup! Of course, and no pressure, but the occasional team-up always works well for me. I mean, I basically started as Mistah J’s henchman, you know.”

“Hench-woman,” Ivy corrected, just to be petty. Harley grinned.

“Girl power,” she said, learning in conspiratorially. Ivy was beginning to grow frustrated; it was seemingly impossible to discourage Harley.

With a sigh, she decided to switch her strategy. Rather than being cold, she would just see what happened, but she would remember to withdraw her heart from the situation. And, to not be surprised when Harley left.

It didn’t take long for Harley to finish the first of the scrambled eggs, dumping it on the toast and setting it in front of Ivy. “Tah-dah! Ladies get served first,” Harley winked, and Ivy felt a smile appear before she stopped it.

“Smells good,” Ivy said flatly, and Harley grinned, lifting her shoulders cutely before turning back to the stove. Ivy began to eat, and she was surprised at how good the food tasted. In the past, Harley was always conveyed as a ditz, but she was competent in more ways than most people were.

Ivy savored the eggs and cheese, listening as Harley hummed some upbeat song she didn’t recognize the tune of. There was something peaceful about that moment, something she didn’t want to fade away.

And then Harley’s plate was clattering beside her, and Harley swung herself into the empty chair with joyous fervor. Ivy tried to reconcile the fiery, raw sexuality Harley had presented herself with when Ivy first met her with the bubbly, happy woman beside her. 

Harley tore into the eggs. “Mm, yummy!” She complimented her own cooking. Ivy let out a little laugh, shaking her head, and she missed the warmth with which Harley smiled at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the comments, they always warm my heart and make me want to write even more! Hence the quick update, haha ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I guess I'm gonna update this story a lot lol, hope you enjoy ♡

Ivy stole a glistening-new pink convertible to make traveling easier some months ago. Yes, it was disgustingly harmful to the environment, but this was the world she lived in. Unfortunately, some concessions had to be made in order for her to get where she needed to go.

Now that she had Harley to take care of in addition to herself, she needed to have a full fridge. After breakfast, they parted ways and Ivy headed back to her own room, putting on a yellow dress and tying her hair up, clipping it in place with large barrettes. Ever since the accident, it was uncontrollably curly, so she used plants to twist in it and lock it in place.

After spending years as Poison Ivy, Ivy had learned how to turn the chlorophyll in her skin off, altering her color from green back to her original pale-peach skin. She stared at the golden freckles across the bridge of her nose, the patches of pink glowing in the apples of her cheeks.

Anymore, Pamela Isley felt like a completely different woman from her. Back then, she’d had friends—few, sure, but still, friends—and a purpose. A chance for a normal life. Ivy smiled at herself, but it wasn’t happy. More like pity. She turned swiftly from the mirror and picked up her purse, latching on a pair of short heels before heading into the next room.

She found Harley with her hair down and brushed out, a bleach-blonde sheet tumbling down her back. Harley’s baby-blues lit up when she spotted Ivy and she bounced over to her. She looked like a completely different woman in a purple tank top and jeans, and for the first time Ivy noticed just how tiny Harley was. Despite being tall for a woman, and unusually athletic, she was slender, with collar bones that stood out above the neckline of her cami. 

Ivy remembered hearing about how Joker pushed Harley out a window and how the fall broke her leg. Shit, Ivy thought, realizing how vulnerable Harley was. She was still just a person; she was no Wonder Woman, with biceps you couldn’t get your arms around.

Ivy gritted her teeth. It was just another reason to despise the men of Gotham.

“You ready, Red?” Harley asked, tilting her head. Ivy realized she’d used foundation to cover up the little black diamond tattoo beside her eye.

“As I’ll ever be. Let’s avoid making a scene until the end. You have a weapon?” Ivy asked, and Harely reached into her blue handbag and pulled out a small pistol. “Good,” Ivy complimented, and Harley relished the compliment, closing her eyes and smiling.

There was no way for Ivy to know how long it had been since Harley last received praise.

Living with Joker had been…destructive to her self-esteem. He was a busy man, and the only things he had time to give second thoughts to were mistakes.

When things were done right, he tended to not notice.

And it was small, yeah, but Harley glowed beneath Ivy’s positive words. She followed Ivy like an eager puppy to the car. “Ooh, it’s pretty! Like something from a movie.” Harley said, running her hand over the sleek, polished car.

“I stole it from someone who looked as if she could star in Legally Blonde,” Ivy snarked, and Harley laughed as she hopped into the car. She glanced over as Ivy started the vehicle, taking in her radiant red hair and pretty profile. Even without the luscious green, Ivy was undeniably striking.

And, if Harley was being honest with herself, the image of Ivy in that barely-there white slip dress was still heavy in her mind. Harley couldn’t imagine wearing something that gorgeous as a nightdress.

“Ya know, Red, I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” Harley chirped happily. Ivy kept her eyes on the road, but Harley didn’t miss the quirk of a smile touching her lips.  
“Here we are,” Ivy said, pulling abruptly into a grocery store. “Head in, grab what you need, and get out. We’ll meet at the registers, deal?”

Harley nodded happily. This was hardly her first grocery store robbery. The two women exited the car, heading in together and looking around. They met eyes and Ivy gave Harley a sharp nod before walking off toward the frozen section. Harley watched her grab a cart, and she scooped a basket up for herself.

Looking all around, she began to wander curiously through the store. So much had happened so quickly, and it was difficult to process all of it. For the first time in a long time, she’d gone quite a while without thinking about the Joker. But, now he was occurring to her again. What would happen if she ran into him?

She bit her lip; it wasn’t a difficult guess. She’d be stuck looking down the barrel of a gun. Or, dodging acid from that flower he always wore on his suit. Harley plucked a box of Lucky Charms of the shelf, pausing to look at the calories. 110. She put it in the basket and drifted along, feeling suddenly hollow.

Here she was, grocery shopping. Well, grocery-robbing. Alone, technically friendless—Poison Ivy was a notorious misanthrope, so Harley couldn’t count on anything from her—and out of a job. She’d thrown everything away, and for what?

For Joker to dump her on the sidewalk, again and again.

Harley filled her basket with brownies, cake mix, every kind of icing she could find, chocolate bars, licorice, chips, soda. She saw little kids staring at her overflowing basket with wide-eyed envy. 

As she drifted toward the clothing section of the store, she spotted Ivy swishing through the meat aisle, pausing to bend over and examine the supply. Her cart was full of tons and tons of normal food, and Harley wondered what she would think of the junk Harley’d grabbed.

Hardly darted past her, nabbed another basket, and filled that with silly putty, nerf guns, and the tackiest clothes she could find. She needed to go thrift shopping again, so she could make more outfits for herself. Making absurd outfits was a hobby that hadn’t fit in her life as Dr. Harleen Quinzel, but as Harley Quinn, well, anything went.

Everything she snatched up was self-indulgent, a means of healing. Including the LOL doll she nabbed right out of a little girl’s hands. Might as well give herself a surprise.

She headed over to wait by the register, but she’d beaten Ivy there. She sat her baskets on the floor and looked around at the people shopping. She saw a portly man examining eggs with precision, picking each one out of the carton and looking it over for cracks.

Something about it made Harley nervous, and she shifted antsy from foot-to-foot. By the time she saw Ivy emerge from between the aisles, pushing a stuffed cart, she was downright jittery. She bounced at the sight of Ivy, sprinting over and dumping her baskets into the cart. A bag of M&Ms flopped onto the floor, and Harley’s assortment of clothes smushed Ivy’s gathering of plants.

“Harley! Did you just grab a bunch of junk?” Ivy demanded, knocking the clothes off of her plants. Harley grabbed the things that had fallen onto the floor, carrying them haphazardly in her arms.

“Not junk, treats! For self-care,” Harley smiled. 

Ivy glowered. “How much self-care are you planning to do?”

“Lots!” Harley pouted. Why was Ivy so disappointed in her? Ivy shook her head.

“Fine, let’s just get out of here. Come on.” The two of them fast-walked toward the door.

“Hey, you need to check out—“ a security guard began, and Harley whipped the pistol out of her purse, pointing it at his head.

“You need to shut up!” Harley taunted in turn. Ivy picked up to a run, racing out of the store. 

“Harley, let’s go,” Ivy said urgently, over her shoulder, but Harley noticed that people were backing nervously away from her, the security guard even had his hands up. 

“That’s right, you idiots! I’m Harley fucking Quinn!” Harley bellowed, pointing the gun up at the ceiling and firing a shot that went straight into the lights. The lights cracked the fizzled, glass falling to the floor and sparks jutting out. People screamed and ducked.

“Harley!” Ivy screamed, and, laughing, Harley ran after her, bumping into her. Together, they picked up the cart and overturned it carelessly into the back of Ivy’s car before leaping in. Ivy sped off, Harley laughing and enjoying the wind through her hair.

But Ivy was silent. All too soon, Harley noticed her frown and found herself careening back toward reality. “Ives, something wrong?”

Ivy let out a huffy breath. “You want to get caught.”

Harley was affronted. “What do ya mean? I don’t wanna be caught.”

“Okay, then you want both of us to be caught! Why were you so careless?”  
Harley flushed. “I wasn’t careless.” Ivy shot her an unimpressed expression, and Harley sank in her seat. “Okay, fine, I was a little bit. And I just…well, usually, I’m with Mistah J when I’m doing crimes, and it was kinda nice to know they were all scared because of me. Me, alone.”

Ivy was quiet for a little while after that admission. Harley kept glancing nervously over her as she processed the information, unsure of how Ivy would react. Would she kick her out for this? Harley could imagine it, and if that happened…well, she would lose her chance to get to know Ivy, and that would suck.

Finally, Ivy smiled. A dark, malicious smile.

“That’s all, huh? You just want to scare people?”

Harley nibbled her lip. “I wanna be taken seriously.”

Ivy spoke with her eyes on the road. “I know how to get people to take you seriously, Harley. That’s no problem. People are already afraid of you; that much is clear. But I know how to make it clear you aren’t just a sidekick, but a villain in your own right.”

“Are you talking about doing a crime together?” Harley asked, perking up. Ivy shook her head.

“We can do that, sure. I’m not opposed. But I’m talking about you, Harley, as a force to be reckoned with. What do you think?” Ivy asked, glancing over, as if Harley’s opinion actually did matter. Harley lit up.

“I’m listening,” she grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading! I'm obsessed with Harlivy and wanted to try my hand, so here's my best attempt.


End file.
